


In Stitches

by bluerosebouquet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x02 coda, Coda, Fluff, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, The Mixtape, sorta 15x03 coda even though it hasnt aired yet lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21115661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerosebouquet/pseuds/bluerosebouquet
Summary: Dean keeps Cas in stitches.  Or, he stitches him up, anyway.





	In Stitches

Cas is bleeding.

He’s used to it now, the stinging pain of the night air on the open wound on his arm, the warm trickles of blood turning cool as they hit the air. He had been hurt in the last eleven years more than he had in the last ten thousand, but that was just a part of being a Winchester he supposed.

Dean throws him a towel, shoving Sam, who is semi-conscious, in the front seat, while Belphegor scrambles in next to Cas and Rowena is already settled in the back, breathing hard. Cas holds the towel to his arm, turning it from white it deep red, as Dean peals off and starts hauling ass in the direction of the Bunker.

Needless to say, their latest plot to stop the hundreds of ghosts Chuck had released into the world had not gone so well. Rowena had tried everything; some of the most powerful magic in the known Universe, but in they had burst, hundreds of them, while Sam, Dean, Cas tried their best to take out as many as they could, there’s only so much three of them can do. Rowena was weak from the spell and it’s not like Belphegor was chomping at the bit to help, so they had fought their way to the Impala and booked it out of there.

They screech into the Bunker’s garage at around 3 in the morning. Dean and Cas half carry, half drag Sam to his room, where Cas uses the last of his energy to heal every wound he can find on Sam. There’s nothing he can do about the wound in Sam’s shoulder, which is changing rapidly, turning from red to green to purple and then back to red. He and Dean look at each other as Sam sleeps between them.

“This doesn’t look good, Dean.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“I can’t heal this.”

Dean sighs, looking at Sam,

“Thanks Cas, you did all you could.”

Dean looks over at him, green eyes catching blue.

“Let me stitch that up, I know you spent all your mojo on him.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

They end up in Dean’s room, Cas sitting on the edge of the bed, sinking into the memory foam that Dean is so proud of, while Dean pulls his desk chair around, setting up shop on the bedside table. Hydrogen peroxide, thread, a sterilized needle, soap and water, clean bandages, all the things that Cas had seen Dean use a thousand times. Cas looks around for Dean, and finds him in front of his stereo and cassette tapes.

“Can’t stitch you up in silence.”

A moment passes, and Cas reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tape that Dean had given him. Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx. Dean flits a smile at him and sets it into the stereo. “When the Levee Breaks” starts playing gently, and Dean sets to work on Cas’s arm.

The cut is deep, and stings worse than ever when Dean starts cleaning the blood away with the peroxide. He stiffens and sucks a breath in.

“Don’t be a baby.”

But Dean is gentle when he continues, cleaning the blood away. It takes them three songs to get through the cleaning. “Black Dog” and “Bring it on Home” follow “When the Levee Breaks, and Dean hums as he threads his needle and starts carefully sewing Cas up. Neat and identical stitches, like a line of soldiers.

“How’d this happen anyway?” Dean asks, as “You Shook Me” fades to “Custard Pie.”

“I’m not sure. It was either the clown or the tall faceless man with the axe.”

Dean scoffs.

“You take care of him?”

“You mean did I shoot him with salt? Indeed I did.”

Cas hopes he isn’t imagining the pride on Dean’s face.

Dean continues to stitch, tongue between his teeth, and Cas watches him unashamedly, the furrow between his eyebrows, the three day stubble on his cheeks, the scratches on his face from one of the ghosts.

“I should have healed you before we started.”

“Huh?” Dean meets his eyes again. Trees meeting water.

“That’s okay, Cas, they’re just scratches.”

They fall back into silence. The steady beat of “Kashmir” replaces “Stairway to Heaven.”

As Dean finishes he stitches, he runs his hand down Cas’ arm, admiring his handiwork.

“You are very good at this.”

Dean’s eyes flick to him again. His tongue darts out and wets his lips, and Cas tries his best not to stare.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Dean tests the water with his hands as “For Your Life” plays.

“I can finish up if you-”

“No, that’s okay.”

Dean takes his arm again, warm skin on warm skin, and starts cleaning the dried blood around the now neat stitches running their way up Cas’ forearm. It takes some time, three more songs to be precise. “Whole Lotta Love,” “I Can’t Quit You Baby” and, one of Cas’ favorites “How Many More Times.”

He still remembers when Dean gave him the tape. It was one of the only times he had ever seen Dean shy, but he had come to Cas with his eyes to the floor, more red in the face than he ever would have admitted, and had pushed the tape into Cas’ hands. Cas remembered reading the label and looking up at Dean, knowing how much this meant to him.

“They go from 13 to 1. The last one is my favorite. Took me 45 minutes to pick which one was last,” he had said with a shy smile. He refused to listen to it with him, 

“I don’t want to influence you.”

Cas had spent the whole night listening to the tape over and over, making notes in a notebook, and he knocked on Dean’s door the next morning.

“The last three are my favorite. Especially “How Many More Times.””

Dean’s face split into a radiant smile, the kind of smile that made Cas feel like he was standing in the sun on a spring day.

“That’s a great one, one of my favorites. Obviously, I guess.”

Suddenly, he’s taken out of the memory by a stab of pain. Dean is back on his arm with the peroxide.

“That _hurts_, Dean.”

“Sorry, sorry, but you don’t want to get an infection.”

“Well, you know I can’t actually-”

“Ok Cas.”

As the final notes of “Traveling Riverside Blues” play on the stereo, Dean straightens up.

“Ok, you should be fine.”

Cas stretches his arm, wincing as the muscles strain.

“If you rip those stitches I’ll kick your ass.”

Cas smiles at him.

“I suppose I should go find Rowena and Belphegor, make sure they’re not in trouble.”

“Hey Cas,” said Dean, catching his arm, his good arm, that is, “What did you mean back in...”

He trails off, clearly not wanting to finish his sentence. Is he embarrassed or just afraid. Cas is definitely afraid, he’s always afraid when it comes to losing Dean. Who would have thought, Heaven’s most devoted soldier turned into something Heaven never intended for him, something almost human.

“Dean, I believe that no matter what, Chuck cannot take away what we mean to each other,” he pauses, not wanting to make Dean uncomfortable, “You, me, Sam.”

Dean wilts a little.

“Oh.”

He starts to walk away, and Cas suddenly feels like he’s holding water that’s slipping through his fingers.

“Dean I just meant-”

Right on cue, the last song on the tape clicked on. Dean’s favorite, “Ramble On.” Dean pauses, looking from the stereo back to Cas.

Dean takes a deep breath, looks at Cas, and starts speaking too quickly.

“It’s just that, I really thought that, when we were talking, that you were, that maybe it was, I don’t know, that it was you and me. That you meant that you and me, what we have is real. That-” he breaks off, “I don’t know.”

Cas takes a step towards Dean, almost unconsciously. His brain has almost turned off, all he can see is Dean, he isn’t even thinking about what he’s saying.

“I did mean that, Dean. I do mean that. I just...I didn’t know how to say it,or if was even right to say it.”

Dean takes another step towards him.

“Yeah well, neither of us are really great with feelings.”

They’re inches away from each other now. It’s not like they ever had any idea of personal space, but there is something different about this, like someone has picked up a barrier between them. Cas is desperately aware of the heat coming off of Dean, how hard they are both breathing, how the tips of his fingers tingle with energy, longing to reach out and touch.

Cas is barely aware of the silence in the room. The mixtape had ended, but it feels like there’s almost a roar in his ears. Fittingly, they lean forward simultaneously, bridging the gap and giving into what was almost eleven years of sheer buildup.

Cas shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore, but the softness of Dean, how gently he pulls Cas towards him, how softly he threads his fingers through Cas’ hair.

He’s not sure how long they stand there, pressed flush against each other, but it’s long enough that they hear Sam stirring in the room next to them. They pull away, Cas missing Dean’s touch immediately. Dean reaches up and brushes his thumb along Cas bottom lip. Cas leans into him, and they stay that way for several moments, before they hear Sam stumbling down the hallway, calling their names.

“Just for the record,” Dean says, smiling at Cas as he stands at the door, “I’m glad that you and me are real.”

Cas smiles back at him, running his hands down the neat stitches on his arm.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> No angst? From me? Who would have thought. This is sorta a coda for 15x02/15x03, mostly based off the "We are" scene. Boy oh boy are Dean and Cas in love though amiright?


End file.
